Meat Cleavers
by Pinklove21
Summary: Nelia Gristle is the daughter of District 12's Butcher, Rooba. When she's reaped for the 81st Hunger Games, can a girl that can butcher make it?
1. Promises

**If you haven't read my story **_**Born of Fire**_** some of this might not make too much sense, but it's not actually necessary. All you need to know is that Katniss and Gale are both Victors and have a daughter, and the rebellion has yet to happen. This is Nelia's Games in her POV. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything-duh**

"_No Teddy, come back!" I cry to my brother. I don't want him to go into that roped off pin again-it may be his next to last year but I still don't want him to go. _

"_Nelly you know I have to." Teddy sighs. "Even if I did get picked at least I'd have a good mentor since it's not just Haymitch anymore." _

_I frown but he has a point. What worries me is that he will go in but he won't come out unlike our most recent Victor. He's a hunter (he always gave mother game with that girl he hunts with); Teddy's not. "Promise me we won't ever get picked Teddy." _

"_We won't Nel. Promise." He smiles. Then he walks into a house with his best friend and it blows up. _

I wake with a start, and realize that it wasn't real-it was just a dream of a memory from when I was ten years old. Except for that last part-that happened about four and a half years ago. My brother died in an explosion at a New Year's Party. Apparently one of the kids there stole explosives from the mine to blow up so little stuff but they got so drunk that they blew all the explosives up at the same time, killing everyone in there. I still refuse to believe that Teddy drank, but I guess I'll never know for sure. He could have done it just to drink with Rye who was still depressed over his dead fiancée, Madge Undersee. But now they're all gone, and I'm still here.

I rub my sleepy eyes and realize with a start that it's Reaping Day for the 81st Annual Hunger Games. With my six required slips (I don't need to take out tesserae thank goodness) I'm pretty safe, but you never know. But Teddy promised me all those years ago that neither of us would get reaped and for some reason I still believe him. He didn't get reaped, and I only have two more years left. There are not a few people who have way more slips than I do.

Since there's no school or work today I decide to go open up the butcher shop this morning. Mother probably won't be up for another hour or so and grandfather doesn't help much anymore anyway. It's just the three of us now since my father died when I was six and Teddy's gone too, so I usually work in the shop whenever I can to help mother. It's the least I can do anyway.

I put on my apron and take out some chickens from the freezer to cut up for today. I grab my favorite meat cleaver from the drawer (it has a pretty blue handle that I painted when I was little) and I absentmindedly do the work, not even looking at what I'm doing because it's so routine. Sure I should probably actually focus when I have something sharp in my hand, but I've never cut myself before so why start now?

I have a few customers before mother wakes up two hours later but not too many. Some people get a little extra because everyone is supposed to celebrate at dinner tonight for the beginning of the Hunger Games. The Capitol's idea is that we should celebrate the Games, but really here (and I'm assuming all the districts beside the Career districts) it's more of a celebration of relief of their children not getting reaped aside from two families every year who shut their doors and grieve their usually almost dead children.

Around twelve thirty we close shop to get ready for the reaping. I go wash myself in our basin and change into my reaping dress of the last two years, a pale pink frock and a matching ribbon holding back my blonde curls. I look into the mirror and sigh at my image. I'm definitely not the prettiest girl in the school or the most popular, but I don't look horrible. Besides, being from town instead of the Seam automatically makes me healthier and better off than a majority of the district. I shouldn't complain but I can't help thinking I could look so much better. It's shallow yes, but what else do I have to think about other than my dead loved ones and butchering? Not much.

After a quick lunch mother, grandfather and I go to the square just outside of our house. It's already packed with people and with a good luck hug from both of them I go sign myself in and stand in the seventeen year old section next to my two friends, Hallie and Rose. They're both Seam but I don't mind-I don't exclusively hang out with town people because mostly I don't like a lot of them. Sure they look down on me for sitting with two Seam girls but I don't really care…well not too much anyway. It's not like they liked me too much when I tried to play with them when I was little so I don't know why they would care.

They both look nervous-far more than I am. Well, I guess that's understandable because they both have taken out tesserae. Hallie has twenty four slips and Rose has thirty six. I want to tell them that there are thousands more and they won't get picked but I don't. It probably wouldn't assure them anyway and the Reaping is about to begin so I zip my lips and watch the stage.

The mayor comes out first followed by our Capitol Escort Effie Trinket who talks in a funny accent and wears the ridiculous Capitol fashions-this year she's sporting a purple wig and a puffy purple and white dress thingy with very high purple heels. I'm sure it's very fashionable in the Capitol but here she just seems silly in the middle of our gray drab district. After her the living Victors come out. We've had four in total but there are only three still living. The first is Haymitch Abernathy, the town drunk. I honestly don't remember how he won or anything but I remember from school that he won the second Quarter Quell. Can't imagine how he won looking at him now-it's easy to see he's already drunk on that stage.

After him with hands linked comes out the other two living Victors from District 12, only similar to Haymitch in that they are both Seam. They are both Victors in their twenties, popular from not only winning consecutive years but mostly from being in love and happily married with a daughter. I know it must have been horrible for them both, especially Katniss's year since Gale was her mentor and that could not have been fun watching your girlfriend in the Hunger Games, but I'm glad we have them as mentors. It certainly beats having only Haymitch to deal with anyway for the poor souls who get reaped. Besides the fact that they have an easy life now-they only hunt for people in the district now instead of themselves because they have nothing better to do. I know mother wishes they would trade with her more again but they usually just hand it out to Seam families in need or trade others for things in the black market that I've never ventured to, called the Hob. It's really nice of them to share their wealth since they don't have to, but I can't help but be jealous that they _can_. Must be nice to go from a Seam life to a perfect one.

The mayor does his speech and I half pay attention, not really caring. I just can't wait to get this thing over with and get home to that dinner we're having tonight. Normally all we eat is almost bad meat in my house, but on special occasions like birthdays and the reaping, my mother goes all out and buys fresh bakery bread and some fruit for dessert from the general store. It's the only reason I sort of look forward to reaping day as bad as that sounds. I shouldn't have any reason to hate this horrible day. I half watch Effie go to the girl's bowl first like every year and think that she really _is_ too happy of a person for a reaping. But I guess it really is an exciting time for the Capitolites, and this is her job. Who would willingly take a job that means choosing two children to die every year? I certainly wouldn't.

"Nelia Gristle." I hear ringing clear in a Capitol accent. Who needs me? I look around and freeze when every face is staring at me in my section. Oh crap. I've just been reaped for the Hunger Games. So much for Teddy's promise.


	2. You're A Gristle

After my initial shock wears off, I stupidly look around to see everyone else's reactions. Most girls just simply look relieved that it's not them, but Hallie and Rose are giving me sad looks that have some horror mixed in. Good to know I have some true friends; of course I would figure that out when I've just been sentenced to death.

I see the peacekeepers coming towards our section because I haven't moved yet and with a deep breath I force myself to unglue my feet from where they very much want to stay glued and with an almost mechanical motion, walk towards the stage, all else blurred other than Effie's smile that is way too happy for me (understandably so under the circumstances) that I would love to rip off her face. But I can't; not because that would be horrible for me and probably mother and grandfather, but because I physically can't make myself speak right now, let alone do anything other than will myself to just get up on that stupid stage and not cry.

When I finally make it up there, I freeze in place again facing the crowd this time, focusing on not my house that I can see easily from this vantage point, not my family or my friends, but the Capitol seal sign that hangs across from the stage on one of the roofs of a square house, trying to make myself angry instead of sad at it so that I don't come off as weak. Sure I could just give up now and accept my fate as a bloodbath, but I don't want that. In fact, the very idea of giving into my death makes me want to cringe. Gristles don't give up; we move on, live for the future. So that's the attitude I want to go in with, not an easy kill.

I'm so caught up in my trying not to cry and steeling myself to make my family proud of who I will most likely die as (as horrible as that seems but probably true) that I completely miss the boy's name. It's not like it really mattered to me anyway since no one I really know well or particularly like is in the boy's bowl, but I should at least try to get to know who they are if they're going into that stupid arena with me. I glance over and I'm sort of relieved if not that surprised that it's a Seam boy, one that looks around my age though I don't recognize him. While I don't have a boyfriend and I don't particularly like any of the merchant class boys, I do know most of them pretty well simply because us town people in general stick to each other and they're my neighbors. It's easier not knowing them initially.

The mayor does his speech and I tune it out once again until he gets near the end and I know I have to do the traditional handshake. I finally get a good look at the Seam boy, and it turns out he's pretty normal looking for a Seam boy other than the fact that he's taller than most I've come across. He holds out his hand for me to shake with a determined to not look scared expression on his face (probably a lot like mine) and his hand is surprisingly firm and warm as we acknowledge each other as competitors.

After that I let go and Effie says excitedly into the microphone, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the District 12 tributes for the 81st Hunger Games, Nelia Gristle and Shane Daley!" Shane huh? Well at least I know his name now and we won't have to have that awkward conversation. I could have just seen it now; _Hi I'm Nelia. Hi I'm Shane. Too bad we have to try to kill each other when we just met. Yeah, sucks doesn't it?_ Yeah…not the best introduction, but it's the Hunger Games; there really isn't anything good about it.

Shane and I are lead into the Justice Building and despite everything I feel like I can relax a little bit. At least there aren't cameras in here to pretend for and no one that will come to visit me will care if I cry. Heck, they're probably expecting it. I'm by myself in this ridiculously elaborately decorated room (seriously? I didn't know that silk existed in District 12. The only reason I know what silk looks like is from watching past Hunger Games and the designer specials that I watch every now and then when I'm extremely bored) for a few minutes until the door opens for mother and grandfather. Mother immediately takes me to her and crushes me to her, which isn't normal but I understand why. Dad died 11 years ago; Teddy died four years ago. I'm all she has left of our family and I've just been reaped in the Hunger Games with one of my six insignificant slips that didn't escape the perfectly manicured hands of Effie Trinket; affection like this only makes perfect sense. Mother doesn't really talk, she just holds me to her for a while and I let her, finally allowing some tears to fall on her dress. When she lets me go to say goodbye to grandfather, he shakes his head at me.

"Stop crying Nelia; you're a Gristle." he says gruffly. With one sniffle I wipe away my tears with my hands, drying them on the back of my dress where it will be less noticeable to the cameras.

"George…" my mother says harshly, but he ignores her wishes to just let me be.

"No Rooba, she's a Gristle and she won't forget that, now will you?" he turns to me, and with a deep breath I nod.

"Good." He huffs back. "Win or die a Gristle, Nelly. Remember that."

"I will. I promise." I say, hoping my red eyes will clear before I leave this room. The peacekeepers come then and they both tell me good luck and that they love me before the door slams shut. _Be a Gristle._ I tell myself, _Don't you dare cry. Be a Gristle, Nelly._

Somewhere in the middle of my mantra the door opens again and it's Hallie and Rose. Both of them are crying which doesn't help me any but I steel myself to be strong and I'm content when I do. It helps not to look directly into their watery eyes; instead I focus on the spaces between their eyes so that it appears I'm looking right at them even if I'm not. They hug me and tell me good luck even though it's clear that they don't believe I'm coming back, but I can't find it in myself to blame them. If it was one of them in my spot I would feel the same way so it's a bit hypocritical to get mad at that. And anyways, they don't really know what being a Gristle means so they don't know that I'm going to try my dang hardest and I refuse to be a bloodbath. If there's anything at all I can partially control, it's that. I can either run like mad without going for the Cornucopia or I can risk it and grab something little like a backpack or something. I am a pretty fast runner at school during gym class, so perhaps that will help. I can try to make myself invisible all week so I can disappear under the Career packs watching, murderous intents.

After they leave I sit back and close my eyes on the velvet couch, knowing I'll be just waiting here for a while until they come get me for the car that will bring me to the train. But about five minutes later I'm utterly surprised out of my state when the door opens. I have another visitor? Who? I thought for sure I was done after my family and Hallie and Rose.

It turns out to be the baker of all people. I mean sure we get bread from the Mellarks every so often, but it's certainly not enough for him to feel comfortable or obligated to come say goodbye to me after I was reaped. I look up at him in confusion and he gives me a sad smile before handing me a package. I peek inside and to my surprise find about a half dozen cookies.

"Thank you." I say gratefully if not still confused, "But what are these for?"

He gives me another weak smile before confessing sadly, "I have given all the tributes cookies during their visiting hours ever since…well ever since the year after my son was reaped."

"Oh." Is all I can reply. His son…that was the year that Katniss, my mentor was reaped. And died. I vaguely remember it, how at the interview he confessed his love for her but she was already in a relationship with her mentor, Gale. The confusion and excitement of not knowing and then knowing was better than the Games everyone here thought. Everyone was so happy for them, but this is one person who probably isn't. After all, it was his son that loved her. It was his son who probably had some sort of shot had Gale not already chosen to save his girlfriend instead. Seeing them happily married with a child must not be the greatest thing for the baker to think of. It makes me sort of impressed with him that he would still do this kindness for their tributes every year.

"Thank you so much." I say gratefully again. It's the least I can do.


	3. Stay Strong

After the visiting hour is over the peacekeepers come back to lead me to the car which will take me to the train. I've never been in a car before and I sort of like it. The way it glides on the roads smoothly and gets us out of town much faster than I ever could have walked. The way the seats are leather and how strangely enough it seems to be cooler in here than the summer heat outside. Too bad this will probably be my last time in a car ever. That thought dampers my enjoyment quite a bit but I don't have much time to think about it as we are just now pulling up to the station.

The second the door opens there are flashes in my face blinding me but I know I need to do what grandfather said. Be a Gristle. Don't show fear or give up even if you are. So I smile and wave for the cameras like I'm not walking towards the train that will take me to my death. Shane, my fellow tribute seems baffled by my behavior but apparently decides to go with it and does the same, much to the Capitol people's delight. As the train doors close our smiles and waving hands instantly fall and become frowns and sad faces once again, much to Effie's disappointment. What, did she really think that we were actually excited to be reaped? We're not Careers.

Effie leads me to my room and tells me that dinner is in about an hour before shutting the door, leaving me alone in this gigantic room that I think might be bigger than the butcher shop, decorated with a huge bed, drawers full of clothes, and a full bathroom. All of a sudden I feel drained, the events of the day weighing on me instantly and I feel like I have to sit down. I sink into the plush bed and curl up and let myself cry for a good ten minutes before I stop myself, telling myself that this is all I'm allowed. I try to stop myself but it doesn't work too well so I distract myself with one of the cookies that Mr. Mellark gave me and focusing on the sugar helps a little. It's a peanut butter cookie and I enjoy the first one and then a second before my tears stop.

I look in the mirror and find that my eyes and cheeks are a little red from crying so I decide to strip off my pink reaping dress and take a shower. We have a shower at home (a luxury of living in town) but half the time it's barely lukewarm water that comes out and we have only bland shampoo and soap. Here there must be twenty different buttons of all different colors to choose from and plenty of temperatures. I experiment and since I don't know what these buttons mean I pick a pink one that sprays me with a pink spray and smells of strawberries, the shower heads that are splashing my whole body rinsing it off. Fascinated, I try another color on the shampoo side of buttons, a purple one this time and a lavender scent comes off the purple foam in my hair. The mix of scents is a bit strange but I like it, and once I get out of the shower and wrap myself in a big fluffy towel I can't help but feel like this is the cleanest I've been in my whole life and probably the best smelling.

After coming back into the bedroom I look through the drawers again and can't help feeling a little shallow. I mean just this morning I was wishing I looked prettier and now I have drawers of beautiful clothes that look like they're just my size. I experiment with a few dresses and skirts before settling on a pretty light blue thing that accentuates the curves I have and makes the blue of my irises pop. Once I'm done looking at myself in the mirror I hear a knock on the door and tell whoever it is to come in. When they do I'm surprised to see that it's Katniss, my mentor, though I don't know why I should be. After all, it is sort of her job to help me through this.

"Hi, I'm your mentor, Katniss." She introduces herself with a small smile. I don't think it was quite necessary to introduce herself since the whole of Panem knows who she is but I guess it would have been weirder to just go about a conversation with her like I knew her so I decide to ignore saying anything like that.

"Nelia." I reply, trying to smile back but failing. But she doesn't seem the least surprised and more than understanding.

"I'm truly sorry Nelia. I wouldn't wish this on anyone." she exclaims with a compassionate look and for once I really don't know what to say. I mean I guess it's good that she's not glad it's me, right? No that's stupid, she knows no one wants to be reaped for the Hunger Games and it's not like I volunteered. Oh wait she did volunteer, but I can't even joke that it was because she wanted to be a tribute. She did it for her sister.

"Thanks." I half whisper, my voice cracking a little even if I didn't want it to. Be strong Nelia, my god. What's she going to think of you if you break down again? Certainly not that I'm a Gristle.

After a moment of silence Katniss breaks it with, "Well, dinner is almost ready. Would you like to go?"

I nod in response, glad that she didn't try to tell me everything will be alright or that it's not that bad; because it isn't. Nothing about this is alright but as long as I can go down looking strong I can get through this.

As we walk down the hall the smells hit me before we even get to the door and my mouth waters instantly. It only gets better when Katniss opens the door and it waifs right into me, the intoxicating aromas instantly taking over. My eyes follow the scent and find where it's coming from, some sort of soup that is placed in front of every seat at the table. Effie is at the end of the table and there are three seats on each side of it, two already occupied. Gale is seated next to Effie and in the middle seat is what looks like a four year old Seam girl who's already trying to eat her food while Gale playfully pushes her grabbing fingers away to wait for everyone else as he takes her tiny hand in his and pretends to nibble at them as the little girl giggles. Once he takes sight of me though he stops and becomes more sober instantly, realizing that I probably can't believe that he's acting so playfully on such a horrible day. But honestly, I wish he would just go on with it like it's not a horrible situation. Pretending everything is normal would certainly help me feel stronger about the whole thing.

"Where's Shane?" I question the table and Gale's eyes shoot up in surprise. I would have thought that he went to talk to him like Katniss came to bring me to dinner.

"You know him?" he asks and I shake my head.

"Not really. I'm just good with remembering names." I inform them. Actually, I'm pretty good at memorizing period which is why my grades are pretty good in school but they don't really need to know that and probably don't care. Knowing my multiplication table up to twelve by twelve isn't going to keep me alive in the arena after all.

"Oh. He's just changing before he comes out." Gale informs me as Katniss sits down in the vacant seat on Gale and their daughter's side while I sit across from the little girl, hoping that she'll distract me enough that I won't break down during dinner if a horrible topic comes up.

But then I start thinking about training and the arena even if they are horrible topics, and what I can do. I'm sure Katniss will ask me soon anyway so I should have an answer ready. I can butcher but I'm not sure how handy that will be. It's not like I could wrestle with a knife and I'm pretty certain that there aren't meat cleavers in the Cornucopia ever. And even if I tried wrestling in training I'm not entirely certain I could become good enough in three days to take on a Career or anything. Memorizing obviously. I don't know how helpful that will be but I think they have a plant station or something that teaches what plants are poisonous or not by watching tributes try to remember over the years. That could come in handy certainly-dying by poison is just stupid. Maybe I could even remember what the other tributes have as skills, remember their names and faces so that I know to avoid them in the arena…

So instead of waiting for a horrible topic to come up, I incredulously bring it up myself. "Does it help to remember the names of the tributes in the arena?" I ask. If it is then that could be an advantage for me. Katniss and Gale instantly look at each other and some exchange some sort of dreaded communicative glance that I don't understand before they both turn back to me with twisted frowns.

"No, not really." Katniss finally says with a sad, guilty look and I decide to drop the topic. Alright so maybe it wouldn't help me be stronger in the arena to know names and stuff after all. I don't know why they look so guilty but something tells me I don't want to know.


	4. Amazing

The Capitol is exactly what I thought it would be…no more, I couldn't have even dreamed of what life would be like here before today. Press a button and any food you want is there in an instant, made to perfection. Clothes upon clothes for any occasion you can (or can't) think of just your size waiting to adorn your body. Attendants called avoxes that do your every need or want. Alright, fine, I do feel sorry for the avoxes but I still can't believe life here. I mean really, I thought I had it alright as a town girl in District 12. That was nothing compared to this. And if I feel like the smallest Seam rat here I can't imagine what people really from Seam feel. Maybe I should ask Shane later. I know Katniss and Gale said it wasn't better to know your competitors too well but Shane and I live on the same floor and will be doing practically everything together for the next week or so; I'm bound to get to know him at least a little.

My stylist is probably my favorite person I've met in the Capitol, which really isn't saying too much since the only others I've met thus far are Effie and my prep team as well as some attendants. I don't dislike Effie but I get the feeling she's just kind of an airhead or something, someone who very much grew up here and the Capitol and simply can't understand us folks from the districts. It's not really a reason to hate her but I can't seem to connect with her any. As for my prep team…well, they might actually be ditzy. All they seem to care about is gossip and fashion. I tried not to listen to their nonsense in the Remake Center earlier but really, it was better to focus on that than the mild torture they were putting me through. Not that I'll probably ever need to know that button belts are very in right now or someone named Persephone slept with a natrie (whatever _that _is) but at least it was mildly entertaining even if I didn't really care at all about it. Cinna I like because he seems sort of normal and doesn't act at all like someone who grew up in the Capitol (which I did ask just because I half didn't believe it). He doesn't even seem to like the Hunger Games too much which I find a little strange since he's probably the most popular stylist. I mean really, he could probably have his pick of districts and he always chooses to stay with District 12. Nice to know someone wants us for something.

Well, wants us for something other than entertainment. Which is exactly what I'm waiting for now. I'm already dressed in my outfit for the Opening Ceremony, a sort of skirt made of what looks like coal and a matching top that shows my belly and doesn't have straps in the same coal like thing. I'm not exactly sure what's going on but if past years have told me anything I highly suspect that I'm going to literally be lite on fire to make us stand out. Shane comes over and he gives me a small smile, dressing in something similar to me except he wearing a vest and pants.

"How was the Remake Center?" he asks me once I'm in hearing range. Well, I'm certainly glad we weren't just going to stand here awkwardly. Nice to know he feels that way too.

I give him a grin as I roll my eyes. "Oh you know, just great. I even heard some juicy gossip."

"Sounds fun. Better than getting hair ripped off of you like me." Shane replies.

"Oh stop complaining. I'm sure I had it worse." I protest, looking at him and the only things I can really find different is that he might have had his chest hair pulled off if he had any and his eyebrows look like they were trimmed or something. Other than that he looks the same. As for me, I don't think I have a hair on my body below my eyebrows and even my hair was cut a little. Flavius, the hair guy on my prep team said he loved my hair just had to perfect the edges or something. I'm not sure what that means but maybe he just meant I had split ends or something.

"I'm sure you did." Shane concedes, and at that moment Cinna comes over with (shocking) a blowtorch.

"Now I promise that this won't burn you so no need to panic." Cinna assures us. He goes to light me first and I can't help but squeeze my eyes shut and tense even though I know it's probably ridiculous. I mean, he's lit tributes on fire for years and none of them ever got harmed from what I could tell. But still…he's freaking lighting me on fire!

"It's alright Nelia, I'm done." Cinna's voice tells me and I can hear the smile in his voice. Clearly he's somewhat amused at my reaction even if I doubt he would ever laugh at me for being scared. He just doesn't seem like that type of person.

I slowly open my eyes and peek down and I'm amazed. The coals have been lit and they are slowly burning but it doesn't hurt or even feel hot at all. Just a lightly strange tickling on my skin whenever it gets too close. I don't have a mirror but I'd bet I look pretty cool (I mean hot).

"Oh Cinna, it's amazing!" I gasp as Cinna puts the torch to Shane's outfit, who only seems as in awe as I do. Cinna looks up at the compliment and smiles.

"You look amazing in it. They'll be sure to remember you." Cinna states confidently and I have to smile. Yes, maybe these outfits alone could get us a few sponsors. All Cinna's outfits are memorable and that can only help me.

"Good for sponsors." Shane states in agreement to what I was just thinking and I nod.

"Well up you go." Cinna's partner who is Shane's stylist orders with a gesture to the carriage and I easily climb in, Shane right behind me.

"Remember to hold hands." Cinna tells us and I look at Shane first who looks at me and seems just as confused as I am before we turn back to Cinna.

"Why?" Shane asks. The only reason I could think of is because it might help us keep our balance but none of the other tributes are holding hands. Unless he wants to present us as a couple which is sort of ridiculous because we really don't even know each other.

"Tradition." Cinna replies with a note of finality that doesn't really answer our question any better but at his insistence as the carriage pulls out Shane and I link hands right before the carriage turns and the crowds come into view.

It's amazing, the reactions. I mean Cinna always blows the parade out of the water but it seems so much louder when it's me here. And for the first time in my life as people call out my name I feel popular. Loved. And I can't help grinning that those stupid girls at home who don't want to be friends with me aren't basking in this even if it is a prelude to a death match and I start waving just to piss them off even more. Louder applause comes my way and my smile gets bigger.

I'm at once glad that I'm holding Shane's hand when the carriage stops in front of President Snow's mansion because the horses kind of jerk it. Maybe Cinna's reason for us holding hands was for whatever tradition he's talking about but at the moment I don't care how mysterious that was. I would have easily toppled over and been the laughing stock of Panem had Shane not held me back, helped me regain my balance without looking like I was about to fall. I shoot him a grateful smile which he returns with a smiling nod.

We turn back to the President who gives his boring speech about the 81st Hunger Games and how lucky us tributes are to be a part of it (yeah right) and blah blah blah. Really, it's worse to be here for the Opening Ceremony in a way because at home I could just turn my head away from the television screen and not listen but here I don't have much to distract me and it would look really bad if I didn't appear to be paying attention. I may look amazing but somehow I don't think President Snow would care if I appeared to not care. And at least for now I have to try.


End file.
